


Soft and Sweet

by kam



Series: MCU Drabbles [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 04:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4208637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kam/pseuds/kam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there was a post on tumblr calling for bucky to gain weight because he didn't want to be a soldier anymore and <a href="http://lostcap.tumblr.com/">soph</a> was like<br/>+and bucky just owns it right;  +when he becomes more than a weapon;  +more than he was recreated and meant to be;  +his thighs are softer;  +and steve will trail his fingers along the edge of ribs he can no longer feel;  +he traces letters on the notches of his spine;  +and bucky smiles into the pillow or blanket or steve’s tummy;  +because his skin is his again;  +and god;  +his laugh is the best part;  +it’s different;  +it’s raw;  +and it has an edge to it yeah;  +but when steve runs his fingertips down his neck and whispers his ma’s langauge into his hair;  +he laughs;  +and he’s alive;  +god just imagine that;</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft and Sweet

When they were kids, Steve was always too skinny to be soft. His ribs and spine and knees and elbows stuck out, and Bucky worried. Not too much, not as much as he worried about other things, but enough that when his Ma sent him something sweet with his lunch, he always split it with Steve, and he always gave him the bigger piece (because Bucky’s sweet tooth would never win out over his concern for Steve.) It was never enough, not enough to add any real weight to Steve’s tiny frame, but it was the best he could do.  
  
Bucky was kind of soft, when they were young. Not by today’s standards – the Depression and then the war effort meant there wasn’t enough food around for him to be anything but solid. But before he shot up in eighth grade, he had the kind of soft stomach that was perfect for lying your head on while you drew, for example. After that, he was tall and thin until he was tall and sturdy and that was that for Bucky Barnes.  
  
  
When Steve became Captain America, he was all hard muscles and that same stupid, strong jawline that was so incongruous when he weighed ninety-eight pounds but now simply added to the effect. There wasn’t a single soft spot on him – everything was toned and tight and to be honest, he felt like a rock. Not that there was a lot of time for the sort of situation where that might matter, but if there had been… Well. Bucky wasn’t the type to complain, not when there was a war on. The only thing was that maybe Steve would’ve fit better in his arms, before.  
  
Bucky was used to being tall and solid. Being a solider changed that a bit, but not too much. He grew harder, his muscles more defined, his ribs and hipbones more prominent. His transition wasn’t as dramatic as Steve’s. At night, in their tent, they complained about how hard the ground was, but the truth was, the ground was no harder than it had ever been. Their bodies were harder, though, and that changed everything.  
  
  
When Steve woke up, he had nothing to do but work out. He went to the gym religiously, learning the intricate machines and following the steps he was given. He swam and ran and boxed because he didn’t have Bucky or Peggy or anyone and he wasn’t interested in anything else. Slowly, he began to spend more time away from his new haven, but it was a struggle. The gym was where he felt safe. Exercise hadn’t changed (or at least, hadn’t changed as much as everything else,) and he wanted to be ready. Just in case.  
  
As an asset, the Winter Soldier was expected to remain in peak physical condition. What and how often he ate was not particularly important, and he never complained. Sometimes, between missions, he was allowed to wake up and train. His body was kept hard and ready because he was often stretched to the limit and sometimes beyond. Any damage was easy enough to repair, and the trauma was simply reprogrammed away.  
  
  
When the trials were over, Steve took a long-promised leave of absence and took Bucky away. For two months, they went only where they wanted to go, did only what they wanted to do, slept as long as they wanted, and ate whatever they felt like. Steve still ran every morning, because some habits are harder than others to break, but by the time they returned to the tower, there was a softness to both of them that had never been there before.  
  
Bucky wasn’t a soldier – had never wanted to be – and reveled in his new-found freedom. He ate chocolate every day. He laid in bed with Steve, holding the taller man down when he complained about missing his run and feeling lazy. He laughed, loud and long, when Steve pressed kisses to the curve of his belly or nipped at what he called Bucky’s ‘tummy’. In those easy moments, Captain America was as long gone as the Winter Soldier – it was just Steve and Bucky and the bodies neither of them had ever known before. Their muscles, like their old lives, weren’t gone, not exactly. They were simply covered by a layer of safety and relaxation that had once seemed impossible.

**Author's Note:**

> "stucky tummy nonsense is my general point here"  
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
